Curtain Of Desperation
They stood in the curtain of desperation
with cold eyes narrowed on one another.
Their hearts beating quicker as moments ticked by
and the dust that curled around their boots,
where one within would eventually lie.
They stood facing one another
on the lonely dusty street with no heart.
Their hands hovered nervously
over the guns they wore on their hips.
Each waited for the others move,
and slowly the hands moved closer
to the marking of one’s time.
Within seconds, it was over
as two cracks of thunder broke the silence
with smoke mixed with dust concealing momentarily
the lonely dusty street with no heart.
When it cleared, only one was standing,
the other lay in the dust cold and silent.
The curtain of desperation that was ripped apart
in the thunder, smoke and dust.
Now it cleared to the only one
who would walk away to face
the curtain of desperation
again on another day.
1 July 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Desperation Is A Lonely Poem
DESPERATION IS A LONELY POEM
Desperation is a lonely poem
And what I have to say
And have said so many times before
Will not save me
From this situation.
Desperation is a lonely poem
And a helpless poem
And a difficult poem
And a painful poem
And a poem I do not know how to get out of.
Desperation is the silence of all these words
And the nothingness of endless not hearing
When I cry with all my soul aloud.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dust 2...
If dust could only talk
What would we hear it say?
Before it's brushed aside
Just as it's swept away
It's just the evidence
It's of no consequence
It's only flesh and bone
Why don't you leave it alone?
If dust could only speak
Caught in a falling beam
If dust could only cry
If dust could only scream
For it's the single witness that might testify
Could I spit out the truth?
Or would you rather just swallow a lie?
But dust is always caught behind a coat of pain
Beneath the marble fingernails of kings and saints
And in the theatre curtain where they hang a drape
Or in the ticket pocket where your hands escape
Before they start to wander
Or they start to shrink
You rub your eye a little and appear to blink
And then she caught you staring
She knows what you're thinking
What got into you is not a ghost as such
It was just dust
Here comes the juggernaut
Here come The Poisoners
They choke the life and land
And rob the joy from us
Why do they taste of sugar?
Oh, when they're made of money
Here come the Lamb of God
And the butcher's boy, Sonny
Well, I believe we just
Become a speck of dust
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nightfall In The Rose-Garden
Ashes to ashes,
Meal to roots of roses:
One-way street in petals falling,
Dust to dust.
The lowering sun sucks
From blown blossoms,
Their colours that go
At last to dust.
Death is in the seed
Bud, root and leaf
Which have no choice
But dust.
From death to death,
The cycle onward blindly
Rolls its endless way
From dust to death.
I, in the falling dusk
Go slowly blind to all.
And shall too, eventually,
Be dust.
poem by Roy William Gotaas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Skylark's Message
SWEET little upturned faces,
Poor little hands and feet,
Little eyes that are careworn and anxious
From hunger and want in the street,
Hear ye that skylark singing
5
Like an angel far away?
'Tis bringing to you a message
From the Golden Gates of day.
Ah, little know ye of the meadows,
Poor little blistered feet,
10
Down in the smoke of the city,
Down in the noise of the street!
But it sings of a better country,
Where tired little hearts can rest;
Of a sun that shines for ever,
15
And the love of a Father's breast.
O poor little weary spirits,
I would that ye knew its song,
For the world is very heartless,
And your journey may be long;
20
And ye need such heavenly music
To cheer you in the night,
Little hearts that are now so noble,
Little souls that are now so white.
I would that ye heard it always,
25
That sweet bird's voice within,
When the heart is sad and lonely
In the long, long struggle with sin;
Till a rest comes out of the sunset
For the labouring hands and feet,
30
And a silence has fallen for ever
On the noise and the dust of the street.
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O, Curtain Boy...my Curtain Boy!
i'm the stage
i'm the setting
i'm the play
i'm the actor
i'm the green room, too
but how's it you kept
the command ove the
curtain in your hands?
o, curtain boy!
my curtain boy...
don't you see
the stage's developing cracks?
the setting's getting ruined?
the lines're getting broken?
the actor's growing weary?
the greenroom floor is all smudged
with the colours of spent out emotions?
o, curtain boy...
my curtain boy!
30aug2009
00.40hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeless.
At the midnight, when street lights make
chiaroscuro on the face of unknown straggler,
someone raps on the door 'are you home, my sweetheart? '
He stands-like a lonely tree on meditation,
like a wind rustling through the leaves,
like an old refrain 'are you home? '
The sweet pain numbs my heart for a while-
the moon with pale face rises behind the curtain,
someone plays a note of my saddest dream,
a high wind from the sea blows away the curtain-
I stood naked before the night with awful question,
' are you home, my dear? '
poem by Aloke Mukherjee
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 42
Listen to this story how in Baghdad
A flag and a curtain fell into dispute.
Travel stained, dusty and fatigued, the flag
Said to the curtain by way of reproach:
‘I and thou, we are both fellow servants,
Slaves of the sultan’s palace.
Not a moment had I rest from service
In season and out of season I travelled about.
Thou hast suffered neither toil nor siege,
Not from the desert, wind, nor dust and dirt.
My step in the march is more advancing.
Then why is thy honour exceeding mine?
Thou art upon moon-faced servants
Or jessamine scented slave girls.
I have fallen into prentice hands.
I travel with foot in fetters and head fluttering.’
The curtain said: ‘My head is on the threshold
Not like thine in the heavens.
Who carelessly lifts up his neck
Throws himself upon his neck.’
Midnight Walk
Dusty,
Dust roads,
Chimney dark
Smoke,
Slivers of moonlight,
Shadows of hip
Hop toads,
And plop,
Plopping
Fish-ringed
Water ponds.
Flashes of light,
Shudders of
Thunder-Pounded
Sky,
Gusts of
Wind-blown wind,
Wolf-dog’s howl,
Screech-cat’s cry,
Heartbeat’s beat,
And rain
Rained street.
poem by Terry L. Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indra
DOWN to the sand-covered earth.
Straw from the harvested fields soiled our feet;
Dust from the high-roads,
Smoke from the cities,
Foul-smelling breaths,
Fumes from cellars and kitchens,
All we endured.
Then to the open sea we fled,
Filling our lungs with air,
Shaking our wings,
And laving our feet.
Indra, Lord of the Heavens,
Hear us!
Hear our sighing!
Unclean is the earth;
Evil is life;
Neither good nor bad
Can men be deemed.
As they can, they live,
One day at a time.
Sons of dust, through dust they journey;
Born out of dust, to dust they return.
Given they were, for trudging,
Feet, not wings for flying.
Dusty they grow--
Lies the fault then with them,
Or with Thee?
poem by August Strindberg
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An Old Dusty Guitar
I walked into a shop one day,
in a dusty corner stood an old guitar.
Dust was playing its only refrain now;
no one took much notice
of it standing there
with several broken strings
looking worn and forlorn.
As I stood and looked at it, I
wondered what stories it could tell.
Were you played by someone famous,
and how many footlights did it see? On the other hand,
were you just strummed by someone
dreaming of stardom out of reach?
How far did this dreamer get, oh, old dusty guitar.
How much I would love to hear your story,
but I have to leave much to my regret,
but if your still hear tomorrow,
and I have enough money.
You will no longer be
an old dusty guitar,
for you will belong to me.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Are We?
WHAT ARE WE?
What are we?
Dust of the earth
Dust of the stars
Thinking dust
Dreaming dust
Loving dust
Dust of Dust
God’s Dust
What are we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Win, Lose Or Draw
Endlessly facing the cold concrete floor
Four cold grey walls, and no doors
I barely remember the last forty days
Or just what theyre holdin me for
So far away, they tell me:
Boy, youre here to stay; win, lose or draw
Letters unanswered and visits so few
Cold desperation I know
I guess Id give most anything
Oh lord, if theyd just let me go
Im so far away
Day after lonely, lonely day
Win, lose or draw
Ma, shes dead and gone
Pa just dont seem to find the time
It makes me so sad that hes forsaken me
When hes all I had left I call mine
Im so far away
Day after lonely, lonely day
Win, lose or draw.
Theres two men in one room for ten long years
Still strangers that talk away the time
cause each time I think of your soft hand in mine
I lay here and die one more time
And Im so far away
Day after lonely, lonely day
Win, lose or draw
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dust In The Wind
Music : Kerry Livgren
Lyrics: Kerry Livgren
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now, Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dust Of Africa
The dust of Africa,
Born into the mist of a dusty atmosphere;
What does the future hold for us?
Oh Africa! Oh Africa! ! Oh Africa! ! !
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
From the desert up there to the south,
The wind blows the natural air to all mankind.
On this earth,
We Africans are mixed with a dusty air!
The dust of Africa,
Have you seen it in Libya, Tunisia, Egypt and Morocco?
The dust of Africa,
What about Algeria, Western Sahara and Mauritania?
The dust of Africa,
Do visit Mali, Niger, Chad, Sudan, Eritrea and Ethiopia;
Also, down south to Namibia!
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
Oh Africa! The dust of Africa! !
To the outstretched sandy dust of the desert,
This could be sold for money.
What about the West Coast of Africa?
From Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau, Guinea and Sierra Leone;
From Liberia, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Ghana and Togo;
From Benin to Nigeria with the same problem of the dust,
The dusty wind changes the colour in our rooms too.
Live in Africa to experience this act,
Shop in Africa to know the facts;
From Cameroon, Central African Republic and Congo Brazzaville;
From The Democratic Republic of Congo, Kenya and Uganda;
From Tanzania, Angola, Zambia, Zimbabwe and Mozambique;
From Botswana, Lesotho, Swaziland, Somalia and South Africa;
Our eyes and our clothes do ell it all in Madagascar also.
What about Cape Verde Island, Comoros Island and Mauritius?
What about Seychelles, Equatorial Guinea, Sao Tome and Principe?
Dusty wind, dusty wind, the dusty wind of Africa!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shall Return
It will be changed in the twinkling of an eye!
For His Laws are not kept by us;
And the world surfers from the curses of sin! !
Soot, smoke, dust;
We are unto dust and unto dust we shall return!
But love your heart so that you can do what you love,
For peace is better than war.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Classic
Classic is
When fire no longer sparks
When smoke ended in the vanishing sky
When ashes already mixed with the dust
But when found again in forgotten earth
That dust is still glittering in our eyes
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Theatre Of The Soul
On a cold night in a hotel in new orleans
Came the final blow
And somehow somewhere we lost sight
In our search for that pot of gold
And all that happened I dont understand
Could somebody here, somebody please explain to me
Cause Im feeling so damn deceived
And I cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
Theatre of my soul....play on child
Ashes to ashes...light the good lord lays us down
Dust to dust, oh, no
The time has come to lay to rest the years
All the years it took this heart to trust
Maybe too much too soon, I couldnt get my head on straight
All that worry, just wasted time
And now its much too late to save it
Long forgotten midnight dancer
Plays her final role
The curtain falls and Im still standing
Theatre of my soul you left in vain
Could someone please explain, and I said
Solo
I know that nothings the same
Riding blind on the winds of change
But in my head that scene just keeps on playing
Long forgotten midnight dancer
Plays her final role, oh, yes she does
Cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
The curtain falls and Im still standing
In the theatre of my soul
Cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
When time it just keeps on passing,
I got to let it go, let it roll, let it roll, let it roll
Cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
I keep searching for those long lost answers
In the theatre of my soul
Theatre of my soul
song performed by by Poison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree-I know it well-
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Dust In The Wind
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Flash before my eyes of curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now
Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the Earth and Sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
Everything is dust in the wind
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree - I know it well -
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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